Kyle's Block
by Walwin
Summary: Kyle experiences Writer's Block while trying to think of a story to hand in for homework. Can Stan and a magical night give him an idea or two to write about? SUMMARY IS TERRIBLE, STORY IS HOPEFULLY BETTER, PLEASE READ AND REVIEW. :-)


_Hi there! This story will in three chapters. The first a prologue. The second...well, you might assume what the second chapter is about after reading this... and the third shall be an epilogue. I shall be releasing the second chapter when I feel like it is ready, until then, please enjoy this prologue. The boys are 16 in this story. Style pairing. I do not own any of the characters from South Park nor do I own the show. Enjoy. :-)_

* * *

_It began on a cold winter's day, the clouds had formed an alliance against the clear blue sky that summer had once brought, and everything was as it seemed-_

"Shit!"

_It began as one might assume, the bird were singing, the clouds were forming and the snow that the night had left sparkled like-_

"Goddamnit!"

_It began as- fjnbgrfdjfedkiedmdfkf_

Kyle Broflovski slams his head onto the keyboard of his computer. He has been up all night trying to think of a story that he could hand in to Mrs Franklin for the English assignment the class was assigned with last week. Never before has he struggled so much with completing homework. He usually only has to put half an effort into his essays and he is bathed with A's and A*'s, but there has always been something about writing short stories that has the freckled boy chewing his nails and hitting himself in the head over. He sits back up on his soft black leather chair that his Mother brought him when he was eight years old for his bedroom. He takes a deep breath and stares out of the window...the sun is shining rather brightly considering the time of the year (and day), Kyle thinks it's typical that the one day he decides to stay in his house and complete his work, is the one day that the climate seems perfect for a quiet mountain town like South Park. Even for seven o'clock in the morning the sun seems that much brighter than the redhead is used too. He reaches for his Red-bull and gulps the half-empty drink down his dehydrated throat. An energy drink is the last thing he needs considering his Type 1 Diabetes, but right now...Kyle needs the extra boost to keep him awake.

He rubs his face with his hands and sits up, forcing himself to get dressed for school. Walking to his wardrobe in a zombie-like trance that the sleepless night has given him, he opens the two little wardrobe doors to decide what to wear on this particularly eventless day that is too come. He removes his light grey vest that has been wrinkled and sweatified from the exhausting night the sixteen year old has just experienced for a clean, dark green shirt which he then covers with his over-sized bright orange sweater, with the green shirt's collar just poking over the top of said sweater. Kyle then takes off his green pyjama bottoms and replaces them with dark green skinny jeans and a superman belt. Too finish off his typical 'Kyle' look, he turns to the mirror and grabs his hair brush, trying half-heartedly to tame his wild red hair that has been compared to a "ginger Harry Styles-do" by Bebe one too many times. '_God I hate that bitch_' he thinks to himself as he recalls the almost dramatically traumatic event of socializing with that particular ass-loving girl.

Kyle jumps slightly when his mobile phone rings that annoyingly familiar _"Gangnam Style"_ ringtone that he hates with a passion. He only keeps it because Stan chose the tone for him and Kyle thinks it's adorable that Stan likes pop music so much, although he'd never tell Stan that anything he does Kyle finds adorable, naturally. He jumps over his bed with a sudden new lease of energy when he sees the word _'Stan' _written across the small screen of his 8 year old Nokia phone. Due to his religious beliefs and mainly because his Mother and Father don't believe in mobile communications, he was given this phone for emergency uses only and hasn't been able to replace it with a newer, more modern phone _"because phones are evil, bubula." _Or so says Sheila Broflovski, so naturally Kyle had not told them that he uses his old phone all the time, not just in emergencies, too text and ring his friends. And by friends he means Stan. Kyle would never trust Kenny with his number as he'd probably spend his time texting Kyle different porn sites that Kenny thinks his friends would like, still it's the thought that counts, and well... for obvious reasons Cartman and Kyle don't exchange intimate information like phone numbers with each other, that obvious reason being that they hate each other too much too ever exchange anything but insults on obesity or Judaism. He presses the small green telephone button on his Nokia and brings the device up too his ear.

"Hey dude" Stan greets Kyle half-heartedly, making the red-headed boy assume that his best friend hasn't had much luck with sleep either last night. Kyle groans loudly in a tired response, rubbing his eyes as he does it. "Did you finish your English essay?"

"Well..."Kyle says as he looks over at his computer screen that has nothing but _'It began as- fjnbgrfdjfedkiedmdfkf' _written across it, "...It's a work in progress."

"You haven't started it have you?" Stan asks in his no-it-all tone that would usually piss Kyle the fuck off, but it's Stan using this tone, and Kyle would let Stan get away with murder given the situation.

"What am I going to do, Stan?" Kyle pleads, "Mrs Franklin is going to fail me. Do you know how many fails I've received?" He waits for an answer that doesn't come, "Well I'll tell you how many fails I've received Stanley, none. This is the start of the end of my educational life, I'll be working as a drug dealer in a few years at this rate smoking 60 cigarettes a day and-"

"Dude, Kyle, calm down!" Stan urges while holding back laughter. Kyle has always had a tendency to over-react at just about every situation. Still, Stan does love it when Kyle is in these moods, because its times like this when he calls Stan by his full name, Stanley. Stan usually hates it when people say his full name but there's something about the way Kyle says it when he's pissed off that just melts and amuses Stan's heart. "Why don't you ask Mrs Franklin for extra time?"

"_Extra time?!"_ Kyle repeats... sounding like that was the most revolting suggestion that anyone has ever come up with, and Stan already regrets asking. "Do you think Martin Luther King Junior needed extra time to work on a speech, Stan?"

"No-"

"Or do you think Einstein needed extra time to work on the Quantum Theory?"

"I guess not-"

"No, they didn't!" Kyle crashes back down into his leather chair and rubs his free hand through his hair in an act of defeat and exhaustion, "I'm sorry for sounding like my Mother, dude. It's just-"

"Kyle seriously, I totally get it. You've never experienced failure, welcome to humanity."

"Fuck you," Kyle giggles, laughing truly for the first time in days. Stan always knows the right words or insults too throw at Kyle at the right time to cheer him up, and it's been like that all their lives. "I'm going to finish this paper tonight if it kills me,"

"Well you better hurry up with it, its due in tomorrow" Stan reminds Kyle, as if he already didn't know.

"Stan?" Kyle asks in a much calmer tone after relieving all his stress through the mobile communications that his Mother hates so much.

"Yeah?"

"What did you write about for your story?"

"Well-"

"Kyle bubula wake up and get ready for school, we don't want a hermit running in our family, young man!" Sheila Broflovski shouts from behind Kyle's bedroom door. She has adopted a habit of knocking before entering Kyle's room now, she never told Kyle why she does it but he knows it's because she's secretly worried that one day she'll walk in on him masturbating.

"I'm up _and_ ready, ma!" Kyle replies, shouting through his closed door.

"Well come downstairs and eat something for crying out loud, you need some meat on your bones, I mean doesn't he, Gerald?" Sheila turns her attention to her husband and Kyle listens as her voice slowly fades away, telling him that she has gone to the kitchen, probably too moan to Kyle's Father about how their children are getting skinnier and skinnier. It's true that Kyle isn't the most built up person in South Park, but he wouldn't say he was worryingly skinny. He's just right in his view. Not too big, not too thin as it's always been. Stan is the _athletic, gym-member_ whilst Kyle is the _stay-at-home and complete homework_ companion.

"Sorry dude I've gotta go," Kyle says directing his attention back to Stan, "I'll meet you at the bus stop, okay?"

"... kay."

"Bye."

Kyle hangs up the phone and lifelessly begins his morning routine.

* * *

The warm orange glow and heat radiating from the sun starts to fade as it slowly goes down behind the iconic, snowy mountains of South Park. Kyle watches in a day-dreaming state from the window of Mrs Franklin's class in South Park High School as a family of deer drink from a small pond just outside of the building. He considers writing about the beauty and innocence of nature, about how instinctively the Mother Deer knows her responsibilities as a parent and she knows that the babies need feeding first, but then he remembers that the paper has to be a fictional story, not a wildlife documentary. He stays in this state, watching this small family of animals in fascination until his slacking is ended when the animals quickly separate from each other in different directions, hiding from an approaching sound coming from behind the pond. Kyle couldn't help but notice how mortified they all looked as they quickly scattered from whichever predator was approaching their nest. He knows exactly why they ran when he sees Eric Cartman running through the bushes around the pond and climbing back over the school fence and into school property, somehow managing to keep the ice cream he risked leaving school in the middle of day for intact as he not-so-subtly enters the front entrance of the building, sweat marks covering his grey gym shirt that must have been about three sizes too small for the guy.

"_Fat-ass." _Kyle mumbles under his breath.

"What was that, Mr Broflovski?"

Kyle jumps in shock as he turns from the window to see a rather paranoid looking Mrs Franklin standing next to him, carrying some textbooks in her hands. She must only be in her early twenties, with long, curvy blonde hair and rosy-cheeks... Kyle can understand why most of the boys in his year actually enjoy detention with her. He takes one look around the class to see that everyone else has already left for the next lesson and he then begins to worry about how long he was actually sat there watching fat-asses and deer.

"Oh Mrs-Mrs Franklin!" a startled Kyle shouts, panicking that he might get a detention himself, which believe it or not; is something he would rather avoid, "I'm sorry it's just- that wasn't directed at you- it's not what it looks like"

Mrs Franklin giggles softly under her breath and rests the textbooks on the desk in front of Kyle's. "Kyle you're one of the most well-mannered students in my class" she says taking a seat and turning it in front of Kyle's desk, "And judging by the student you may or may not have been looking at as this certain student may or may not have made his way over the fence of the school..." she begins to whisper putting her hands in the air as she does in an innocent way, "...I don't believeit was _me_ you were calling a fat-ass" she states in an even quieter tone causing Kyle to laugh rather uncontrollably loud. He loves Mrs Franklin's honesty, while he knows that near enough _all_ teachers hate Cartman... Mrs Franklin will be the only one who admits it. Or at least she admits it to Kyle who she knows also hates his guts. "So..." she starts again knowing that Kyle is now in the right frame of mind to talk about something that isn't obese teenage boys, "What's troubling you, you're normally one of the only students in my class that pays attention while I'm speaking...but today you were more interested in the weather outside." She says with a smile, to assure Kyle that she knows he wasn't ignoring her on purpose, "What's wrong?"

"Well..." Kyle inhales deeply, as if he's about to confess to the murder of Mr Burns, "You know the paper you gave the class to complete?"

"The fictional story essay, yes?" Mrs Franklin nods as she speaks, her eyes concentrating on Kyle.

"Well..." he says again, taking another deep breath, looking like he might dramatically pass out, "let's say I have a friend who might be struggling to think of a good story for this essay."

"So your... _friend_" she starts, adding emphasise on friend, "He's got writers block?"

"Well sort of, but I haven't even started-", he stops, studying his teachers' face, "_he_ hasn't even started writing this paper yet. He has no idea what to write about but he doesn't want to just think of a half-interesting story and get a C for effort."

"Well Kyle whenever I can't think of anything to write about... I write about a day I've experienced. You know, one that sticks with you and makes you happy when you look back at it" she says, looking into the air with a little smile on her face like she's reminiscing on her own memory, "then just replace your name with whoever you want your main character to be and BAM-" she shouts unexpectedly, causing Kyle to jump back, "you've got yourself a story."

"No offence, Mrs Franklin..." Kyle says softly, sitting back into his seat after his teacher has calmed down a bit, "but that sounds kinda gay." he's quick to re-word his sentence when she gives him a sympathetic look, as if he's just made fun of himself, "I mean- I don't have any memories worth writing about!"

"Well there's any easy solution to that problem, isn't there, Mr Broflovski?" she shouts slightly, getting excited at her own revelation, when Kyle gives her nothing but a confused look, she leans in closer to whisper, as if she holds the knowledge to bring down an entire government, when she's face-to-face with Kyle, she whispers, "Make one."

"Huh?" Kyle says while backing away, feeling slightly claustrophobic at the closeness of his teacher. There's nothing weird about the way Mrs Franklin acts with her students, she just has a tendency to act like a child and get excited over every little thing, almost forgetting the fact she's the teacher, not the student. When she senses Kyle backing away, she leans back straight onto her chair with a huge grin on her face.

"Make one, Kyle. You've got a whole 12 hours at least to make yourself a great memory, go out with your friend, Steve-"

"Stan-"

"Stan!" she corrects herself, forgetting that Stan is actually in her class too, "Go out with Stan, have a laugh, live a little!" she shouts, Kyle begins to worry that she might start shaking him by the shoulders screaming _'LIVE'_ over and over, "And then when you get back home you'll find that you have ten times more information to write about than you did when you started this essay!"

"Yeah but ten times zero is still zero." Kyle says in his smartass tone.

"Don't make me put you into detention, Kyle Broflovski!" Mrs Franklin shouts in possibly the most intimidating way Kyle has ever witnessed, until she winks at him and the two share a little giggle. Kyle thinks it's fair to say that Mrs Franklin is definitely his favourite teacher.

"But what if, like. I dunno, say I live the best experience of my life tonight but it's so weird and illegal that you have to report me and send me to a nut-house?!" Kyle asks in his usual over-dramatic voice.

"Kyle, trust me, nothing is too weird for me. I once had a student who tried to convince me that her grandfather was an alien time-traveller!" Mrs Franklin says with a deep-seriousness in her eyes.

"What happened to her?" he asks.

"I'm not sure; I believe she moved to London or someplace like that. Now go on, get to your next class before you're late, who do you have next?" she asks as Kyle checks his timetable.

"Urgh, Mr Garrison." He says in a disgusted voice as he puts the timetable back into his school bag. Somehow Mr Garrison managed to get a job at South Park High School after he was fired from South Park Elementary School for 'advising' the children on how to get _"poontang", _which was his idea of teaching Sex Education. "Okay I should go, thanks for the help, Miss!"

"Anytime, Kyle" she smiles as she watches Kyle leaves the room, "Oh and Kyle!" she shouts just as he's leaving the door, he turns around in confusion, "do tell Mr Cartman from me that if he _ever _ditches school again not too come back."

Kyle laughs and smiles at his teacher for the last time today as he heads for his next lesson. While walking to Mr Garrison's class which is on the other side of the large building, he considers what Mrs Franklin had told him. _"Live a little!" _he hears her voice in his head. _Maybe she's right... _Kyle thinks to himself, _maybe me and Stan should do something tonight. _And with that, he spends the rest of his short trip planning in advance all the things he and his best friends could get up to after school. The possibilities are endless.

* * *

_Don't forget to review what you think of the story up to now and want you want to happen during the night. Chapter two will be much longer than this chapter and shall be the main chapter. Thank-you for reading. :-)_


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